Cats and Dogs
by Maiden of the Moon
Summary: Sebastian has discovered the "Nyan Cat" song. Now if only he can convince Ciel to like it... -SebaCiel. Part of the "Bicentennial" universe.-


**Disclaimer:**No already! XD;

**Author's Note:**So technically I'm supposed to be working on my new chapter fic… But then Tatum and Brina had to go and be AWESOME and thoroughly distract me, haha~ (Can you blame me? Sebastian proposed to Ciel! "FIVE THOUSAND" JUST BECAME SO CANON. XD) Thus, I decided to celebrate by taking a quick break and pumping out a drabble for the "Bicentennial" series. I hope y'all enjoy it. :'D

**Warnings:**SebaCiel. Fluff. Part of the "Bicentennial" series ("Bicentennial," "Inevitable," "Five Thousand," "Timetable," and "Coffee Break"); takes place after "Five Thousand." Slapdash editing. Inspired by conversations with Madeleine Elizabeth and the (God help me) "Nyan Cat" song. XD; And hey, here's a fun fact: "nyan nyan suru" ("to meow meow") was an 80s euphemism for having sex, over in Japan.

**Dedication:** For Tatum and Brina. ASDFGHJK YOU GUYS. :'D

**XXX**

**Cats and Dogs**

**XXX**

**6:02 PM**

"For the love of all things unholy, Sebastian, turn that off right this _instant_."

Momentarily distracted from his shiny new laptop— and the incessant music pouring from its silvery speakers—, Sebastian's fancy fell instead upon something far sweeter: the sound of his young master's exasperated bitching. (He would admit, he was a man of acquired tastes. As all of his friends had taken to reminding him on movie nights; damn them and their lack of appreciation for Clooney…) Though sour moods were not in any way unusual for the younger demon, the butler supposed Ciel had an actual _right _to be in a foul temper, this evening; he had just returned home from his first shift at Starbucks, and it seemed obvious that things hadn't gone well. Though his lord was an excellent businessman, he had never been one to appreciate or understand the finer points of customer service, most notably the concept of patience. It didn't help that the poor not-boy had been forced to maintain a girlskin at work, all for the sake of inconspicuousness. It wasn't an unfamiliar disguise, but that didn't mean he liked it; Ciel found many forms uncomfortable, and this particular ponytailed fop was one of them. As he stormed into the living room, he glowered at his husband (who was seated ever-so-innocently at his uncluttered desk, open computer blaring) and ripped off his jade-green apron, shrinking a good foot as he did so. He then lost an additional three inches as he kicked off pointed heels; his brown hair faded to twilight gray and his bosom deflated against his breast.

And all the while, the music played.

"_Sebastian._" Ciel's voice, full of dark warning, recalibrated and readjusted itself, falling back into its regular register as his face became his own again. He glared at his servant like he would a disobedient dog. "I believe I told you to turn that blasted song _off_."

Still lounging before his laptop—but now looking very tempted by the space on the sofa beside his irritated spouse—Sebastian hesitated with one finger on the mouse. "…can I not at least enjoy the tune to its conclusion, my lord?" he tried, expression innocuous. But his master, as per normal, was not fooled for a millisecond.

"Don't play dumb with me," the once-earl growled, propping sore feet atop the cool surface of the glass coffee table. (And because it was Ciel, Sebastian didn't say anything about it.) "You know as well as I do that that's one of those looped monstrosities. It will play on and on until your computer turns to dust. Or until I break it by ramming my fist through the screen. Most likely the latter."

…touché.

"Oh, come now, my lord," Sebastian tried to pacify, spinning 'round in his spindly chair and shooting his charge a winning grin. It seemed very much like a wasted effort, but that had never stopped the demon before. "It is fun and catchy!"

"…it is called the 'nyan song,'" Ciel droned, expression as emotionless and dry as his tone. He laced black-tipped fingers across his stomach, glowering down the length of his prone figure. "It features a cat. A cat made of toast. In fact, I'm fairly certain that's the only reason why you _like _it."

"No, I— well, yes, there is that," the other confessed, sounding somewhat sheepish. Which should have been enough, Ciel thought, but no— despite that, when Sebastian next stood, he left the infernal tune playing. Wearing a sunny smile (as if that might protect him from the other's bitter frown), the servant sidled over to the couch and flopped down beside Ciel, sliding so close that the top of his thigh buried itself beneath his companion's. When Ciel made a squeaky noise of displeasure, moving as if to garner himself some personal space, Sebastian acted— grabbed his petite charge by the shoulders and hauled him onto his lap, wrapping his hands around those bony wrists.

"Sebastian, what're you—?"

"I also enjoy this song because it is fun to dance to," Sebastian decreed over Ciel's squawk of protest, all hearts and daisies and shooting stars as he began to wave Ciel's objecting fists back and forth, back and forth, in a childish bopping motion. "And because it does not possess a rhythm to which one can waltz to, even _you_should be able to dance along with me." He beamed warmly, utterly unaffected by the arctic chill of his tamer's returning stare. "See? Why, look at you! Finally, a dance you have a natural affinity for, baby bird~ Nyan nyan nyan nya-nya-nya-nya nyaaa nyan…"

"…could you at least _not sing_?" Ciel deadpanned, but despite his best efforts to maintain his grimace his mouth was beginning to betray him; the corners of his lips had twitched ever-so-faintly upward—just the smallest fraction, but certainly enough to be noticeable. It only grew worse when Sebastian started bouncing his knees in time to his humming, and Ciel was forced along for the ride: up and down, up and down, like a temperamental tot. For a full minute, he managed to maintain his scowl, despite the quivering of his lips… But when Sebastian placed a smiling kiss upon the oversensitive nape of his neck, nuzzling against him with a wet-and-noisy blow of his cheeks, it pulled a genuine giggle from the back of the boy's rosy throat. From that point on, there was no going back. He laughed again when Sebastian began to sway them dramatically back and forth, back and forth, in time to the stupid song— still chirping merrily along to the insufferable (and yet, he had to admit, sort of charming) melody. It was annoying and obnoxious, yes, but he supposed it wasn't so bad if it made Sebastian legitimately happy… And from the way the devil was cuddling him—long arms wrapped around his middle in such a way that Ciel was hugging himself, to boot— he _did _seem legitimately happy.

The smaller devil rolled his eyes to the ceiling and heaved a heavy sigh, but it wasn't one of annoyance, anymore.

"Have I ever told you," Ciel lightly asked, twisting his head enough to press a butterfly kiss to the bone of Sebastian's flushed cheek, "that you are a huge dork?"

"A _devil _of a dork," Sebastian corrected cheerily, and repositioned his lord atop his lap: turning the not-boy bodily around so that they were chest to chest and nose to nose, one smile pressed into another. "And that's hardly a secret. Don't you remember the curry competition?"

"Oh, I knew _before _the curry bun incident, I assure you," Ciel snickered, but the retort lost its sardonic bite— melting into something sweeter and bubblier— when his butler's lips skimmed over the corners of his mouth, sweeping up his temple and then dancing down his chin. With the hand that he wasn't using to keep the once-child pointedly pinned against his torso, Sebastian sought and found Ciel's pallid fist—untangling it from the front of his sweater and instead lifting it upward, resting his head against the range of fragile knuckles. After a momentary nestle, the demon lowered lengthy lashes and decorated his partner's ring finger with a kiss, tender lips warming the cool silver of the band that bedecked the digit. Ciel tried to swallow back a growing keen, but it became harder (in more ways than one) when the titillating tickle of Sebastian's gentle breath whispered over his quaking palm… his tensing wrist… his fluttering pulse point… and all the while, that other hand readjusted itself: bringing Ciel closer with a rustle of clothing and a grind of hot friction—

"Don't—even _think_ about it…" Ciel rasped, squirming through a hitch-gasp-_moan_ when Sebastian nipped at his jugular, making his knees spread and his toes curl. At the sound of his husband's rebuke, Sebastian whimpered (almost like a puppy, though Ciel would never point that out to him) and snuggled all the closer… but that only encouraged his master to whap him softly upside the head. He was then whapped somewhat _less_softly when Ciel felt a groping hand slither down the back of his jeans. "Bad boy! I said no! Not while this ridiculous song is playing."

Until that moment busily licking his way down the valley of Ciel's chest, Sebastian lifted his half-obscured face enough to offer his master a piteous glance, bottom lip popped out and quivering. His master's response was some unique hybrid of a scoff and a wry chuckle; despite the undercurrent of amusement, however, he continued shaking his head. "This is not mood music, Sebastian. And no matter what you try, you won't be able to convince me otherwise."

A smirk—bright as a schoolboy's and just as mischievous. "Is that a challenge?" the butler queried hopefully, for a loophole was a loophole. Ciel's immediate response was to (again) roll his eyes, and he was just about to follow that up by turning his polite demand into an order… but then he looked into his servant's wide, expectant gaze—glowing the same passionate scarlet as roses and valentines, almost angelically innocent in their inane request—and he found that he simply didn't have the heart. Maybe the passing centuries had softened him more than he'd realized… or maybe he was finally learning to compromise, consciously and willingly. Though really… what did it matter, in the end?

"…fine," Ciel conceded, smiling around another diminutive sigh. But the serene softness of that smile did not last for more than a moment before it had morphed into something sultry and shameless. With a lustful little chuckle, the not-boy repositioned himself atop Sebastian's hips and settled pointedly down, tangling his free hand in silken tufts of onyx as he murmured: "Provided you promise to make me scream so loudly that I can't hear that bloody song."

A double-blink, a startled pause; for a fleeting instant, Sebastian seemed rather taken aback to realize that he'd _won_… but his surprise was soon followed by a leer as licentious and lengthy as his master's, teeth winking and eyes flashing with laughter and love. "Yes, my lord," he huskily promised, before recapturing Ciel's mouth with his own.

And Sebastian always kept his promises.

**XXX**


End file.
